


In a faith forgotten land

by bellofthetolppl



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury, Post-Season/Series 04, Spooning, basically hurt stubborn!bell and angry pissed off!clarke, in season 4, post 4x05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29846520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellofthetolppl/pseuds/bellofthetolppl
Summary: When Bellamy and Kane are captured by Azgeda in 4x05, Bellamy gets tortured for information and after when they're safely home, Clarke finds out and gets angry but not before making sure he's fine and patching him up!
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 64





	In a faith forgotten land

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I had this idea recently when I was just scrowling through tumblr so I thought I'd write it down! Hope yall like it.
> 
> Please if you can support Bob's Represent campaign that raises money for NAMI and LHL! 
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr @bellamyblake!

“Where is he?” Clarke asks Monty as she’s striding through camp, making it hard for the kid to follow her-her hair was spilling in every direction, annoying the shit out of her but this was the last thing on her mind.

_The first was Bellamy._

They had just come back from the negotiations with Azgeda after Roan kidnapped him and Kane. She had not noticed all the way from her spot in front of their small army that he had been hurt, it was only when Kane called her name out in a begging manner, urging her to do something and when the guards roughed them up on their feet, that she realized Bellamy buckled over and almost toppled down on the ground.

Kane had tried to shove himself under his body, support him, even with his own hands wrapped in tight ropes but the guards quickly tugged them off and she saw Bellamy stumbling on his feet, falling on his knees and then standing up again after one of the guards hit his back with what looked like the hilt of a sword.

Her heart had trumped so loudly in her chest she almost felt like passing out and she knew there and then that any thought of not agreeing to whatever Roan wants was lost.

She had to get him home and fast. 

During her negotiation with Roan when she asked if Bellamy and Kane had been hurt, he had only said he considered it fair they ruffled Bellamy up as he was her right hand man and had the most information, though apparently they used him not just because of her, but to push Kane too as it was clear he cared for the boy.

Here Bellamy was-two people loving him and bringing him pain and she could bet, he didn’t even bat an eye when they did this to him.

So much was made clear by Roan as well.

“Medbay-your mom and Jackson are already trying to help him out.”

“Is he-”

“He’s alive.” Monty assures and she grunts almost frustrated that she could think otherwise, that the possibility of him being dead crossed her mind at all. 

“Pretty badly hurt, though.” at that she suddenly stops and Monty almost trips over at the abrupt change of pace “Kane said they beat him with sticks, cut him and kicked him until he passed out.” she bites her lips at that and tries to force herself not to break down right then and there in the middle of camp.

“Was he conscious?” she knew Monty was driving the rover on the way home, she was the one to pick him for the job herself, not trusting anyone else to bring Bellamy back safely but him. 

She had to stay behind and negotiate with Roan for Arkadia and giving the Ice nation half of their spots in the ship, which meant that Bellamy, whatever condition he was in, and Kane had to wait for the whole ordeal to be done kneeling on the ground surrounded by guards.

She couldn’t accept that, so she told Roan they’ll talk only if he releases her prisoners, to which he answered that he could attack at any moment and she just smirked daring him to do it.

She had won and watched from afar as Monty, Harper and a few other guards helped Bellamy up, practically lifted him on the back as he seemed pretty much barely conscious and that only made her fury towards Roan burn harder.

“Yeah, kept saying he’s fine but he coughed blood.”

“Shit.” Clarke curses as she starts striding again and Monty struggles to keep up with her once more. 

“Clarke, wait-” he tries but she’s already in the Ark wreackage they called home, making a turn to the left towards medbay “Your mom said-”

“I don’t give a damn.” she waves her hand at him and the kid just huffs louder.

“Of course you don’t.” which makes her turn and shoot him a look, wanting to make him feel embarrassed that he ever let it out loud but Monty just shrugs unapologetically and follows her inside, completely unimpressed by her behavior.

Still, he adds a weak “He’ll be okay, Clarke” touching her arm gently just when they end up in the big medbay hall and she turns her head left and right trying to find them.

She spots a commotion on the left, down on the last bed in the rows, which must’ve been Kane’s idea of giving him some privacy though the place was full anyway with patients recovering from the first black rain that hit just a few days ago, so she doubted anyone would care much if someone else screamed their guts out. By now it was a common sound around base anyway.

The few nurses were too busy taking care of the wounded and the only doctors they had were currently fussing over one very unhappy patient.

“What’s up?” Clarke asks when she approaches them and finds Jackson keeping Bellamy’s leg down by the ankle while her mom was trying to push him by the shoulders. “What can I do?”

Bellamy was trying to get away from their grips, mumbling something unintelligable and she fully sees him now when she pulls the white curtain around the bed away and steps in closer-Kane was by his upper right side expression somewhat angry and her mom and Jackson trying to talk to him, though clearly the stupid idiot had no intent to listen to them. 

He was gripping the hem of his shirt down, his jacket was just half unzipped so she couldn’t see any of his actual injuries but it was enough to sneak a peak of his face that was busted-there was a cut on the left corner of his head that had painted his face and left a trail of bright red in it’s path, his eye on that same side was swollen shut and his lip was bruised and split open.

That was just some of the many other smaller cuts and bruises he had there that went down to his neck where Clarke could see the boot mark of someone who had pressed so hard on him, it had surely hurt his wind pipes.

Judging by his inability to actually speak out loud, she would say she was right.

“I’m fine-” he said hoarsley as he fought against her mom “Please, just let me go.”

“Bellamy, you coughed blood, Kane said they beat you up until you passed out, I am not letting you leave until I check everything!” her mom argued releasing her grip a little which only let Bellamy push up forward and almost sit up. 

“No-no, I’m-I’m alright, I promise!” he tried again voice just barely there.

Clarke rolls her eyes unimpressed at his behavior and instead reaches out and puts her hand on his chest herself, pushing him back and bringing his attention to her. She doesn’t miss the way he groans when she does this which meant he hurt-he hurt all over.

“Bellamy-” she says voice calm and collected “Will you stop?” and as if she waved a magic wand he simply listens, falls back on the bed and rests his head on the thin pillow, breathing heavily. 

“Clarke-” he manages and his one open eye grows sizes when he sees her-there’s relief on his face, calmness washes over him and she realizes up until this point he was afraid. 

She had noticed him avoiding people’s touches before too.

It all started happening after Mount Weather where whatever torture he endured changed him in a way she had yet to find out more about.

He had even shivered the first time her fingers reached for his but he had endured her touch and then relaxed into it.

Then it got worse after Octavia beat him up-after that, he wouldn’t let even her get close to him but when on the third day of the beating his cuts started oozing red and she realized that the redness of his cheeks was because of the fever running through him, she had sat him down by the river on their way to Polis and made him sit still until she cleaned him up-she simply gave him no room for debate-he had to be helped and he had to let her help.

He trusted her and so he complied though unwillingly and somewhat scared at first.

She had to do the same now. She needed to, if she wanted him to live.

All of this now-her mom, Jackson, Kane-it must be too much for him, it send him back right in that mountain, right back to his sister’s punches, making his body shiver with fear and panic.

“Unbelievable.” Abby says almost annoyed at her daughter for having such an effect on her patient as she pulled her arms back and crossing them over her chest “We’ve been trying to undress him for fifteen minutes.”

“He won’t let you check him up?” Clarke asks making sure to lower her voice so she doesn’t scare Bellamy any more than he already was.

Her hand slides from his chest to his hand and covers it carefully though he doesn’t move it away from where he’s gripping his shirt.

“No. And he really needs to because he keeps coughing blood and he can’t put weight on his left leg.” Jackson adds just as annoyed as Abby is. She can’t blame them, they’ve been dealing with a lot of patients for long hours in the past few days-they were tired. And Bellamy surely wasn’t making it easy for them.

“How bad would you say it is?” Clarke says turning to her mom. She keeps glancing at Bellamy who doesn’t dare close his eye in the presence of all these people who want to prod and touch him but he seems to be calming down a little. 

“He couldn’t walk, leaned on his left, so I assume his knee is bad considering he couldn’t bend it and judging by the way he cradled his side, I’d say he surely has bruised if not broken ribs.”

“The wound on his head?”

“The cut doesn’t seem too serious but it’s from yesterday as Kane explained so it needs to be cleaned up before it gets infected. Stitches too.” Abby explains already reading her thoughts and seeing through her plan-that this will be just her helping out and no one else.

“Do you think the blood coughing could be from internal bleeding?”

“For that I need to actually take a look at him which he won’t allow-” Abby says a little too sternly and Bellamy almost whimpers under her scrutinizing gaze and grips his shirt harder, shaking his head and mumbling quiet " _No"’s_.

“Hey, it’s alright.” Clarke promises but it doesn’t do much to calm him down this time and he keeps glancing at them all like a trapped animal. “Could it be from his ribs?”

“Possible. But again I need to actually check on his injuries to know.” Clarke nods once more and squeezes Bellamy’s hand, throwing him a soft, warmer look for the briefest of moments before she meets her mom's tired eyes once more.

“I’ll do it.” she announces.

“Clarke-”

“He’ll only ever let me anyway, mom, there’s no point in arguing about this.” Abby rubs her forehead tiredly as she bows her head down in quiet defeat.

“Clarke, you’re not fully trained for something like this.”

“If I need your help, I’ll get you, I promise.” she assures and she really will-she knows what she can diagnose and what she needs help with.

Her mom was right-she wasn’t a doctor, she only ever finished her medical internship training and she hadn’t done anything too serious since Finn was hurt which felt like another lifetime ago.

“Fine. Jackson can get you some bandages and moonshine but I don’t have anything for the pain I can spare.” Abby explains and Clarke nods. She’s pretty sure that even if she did, Bellamy wouldn’t agree on taking them “I can get an IV though.”

“No-” Bellamy mumbles proving Clarke just right. “I’m good.”

“I swear he’ll be saying this on his death bed, the stupid kid.” Kane huffs annoyed but it just makes Bellamy smile a little just as Abby and Jackson take off unimpressed by his behavior, making Clarke think he repeated that at least a hundred times before she stepped in.

The older man tries to leave too but Clarke reaches for his hand and stops him.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he smiles sadly and sits back on the metal chair, seemingly not surprised that she needed a debrief now-that’s who Clarke was after all-always working for her people.

Or was she maybe desperate for information now because of how hurt Bellamy was? Was there a glimmer of revenge he could see in her eyes? He had no doubt she’d buldge the eyes out of the soldiers who tortured Bellamy and feed it to them on a spoon but that was dangerous for both her and him.

**_Yet it was also something good._ **

**_It was love._ **

**_Even if the two idiots couldn’t see it._ **

“They needed information.” he explains the obvious “We wouldn’t say anything but then they hit him first and I...made the mistake of acting out, so-”

“They figured he’s your weakness and just beat the crap out of him.” Clarke finishes his thoughts and he nods, bowing his head down shamefully.

“I tried to stop it, begged them to hurt me but they only ever hit him harder.”

“It wasn’t...that...bad.” Bellamy joins in on their conversation and Clarke shoots him a deadly look for trying to downplay it again “I don’t even hurt that much...Can I go home?”

_“No!”_ both Kane and Clarke cut him off and exchange annoyed looks which just makes Bellamy sigh and relax against the pillows.

“How bad was it?” she asks again and Kane looks away once more.

“Pretty bad. They came to our cell every two hours-he took it all without so much as a grunt and at night they strang him up to the ceiling but he was passed out already.”

“Shit.” Clarke curses and looks at Bellamy “What about that, Mister Not-a-big-deal?” which just makes him groan frustrated but even that exertion cause shis ribs to hurt and he covers them with his hand, moving it away from his shirt now that Abby and Jackson weren’t a threat anymore.

“They cut him some, not deep but enough to hurt him and put salt in his wounds.”

“If I knew that I wouldn’t have agreed to any deals with Roan.” she says angrily crossing her arms over her chest and sighing “Thank you, Kane. You can go now.” the older man nods and stands up but still squeezes Bellamy’s shoulder before he leaves and mumbles a quiet _“I’m sorry”_ looking more guilty than Clarke had ever seen him before.

Considering how bad the relationship between the two of them were just months ago this seemed like something from another world. 

Then again, it seemed that is how things worked on the ground.

Once alone, she sits by his side and he meets hereyes, though not too willingly.

“I suppose I don’t need to tell you what an idiot you are?” he huffs and rolls his good eye. “What you did was very stupid, Bellamy.”

“Like you wouldn’t have done the same thing if you were me, princess.” he spits out hoarsely coughing a little after and wincing from the strain he put on his throat.

“That’s not the point.”

“Oh, it sure is the point. Why can you do something but I cannot? Thought we were doing this together or are we back to hating each other?” she’s surprised that he has the strength to fight her now but judging by the way he moves up in an amost sitting position only to slide back on the cot weakly, tells her this is pure stubborness and maybe anger for being left behind again, for her not coming to them sooner. 

“I never hated you, Bellamy, why would you say that?” he just shakes his head and closes his eyes refusing to deal with it.

“I did what I had to. Like always.” he insists “Like ** _you_** do.”

“At the expense of your life.” he laughs and the effort makes him wince and she pushes him down when he attempts to move again, angry that he’s being so stubborn.

“Oh because you don’t risk yours at every turn?” he counters raising his eyebrow.

“Fine, you made your point, now let me look at you.”

“It’s okay, I told you that I’m-”

“You won’t be leaving medbay unless you let me check your injuries.” Clarke says crossing her arms over her chest again “I can sit here all day, Bellamy.” he finally groans and lets his hands drop to his side in quiet defeat.

It’s clear that he hates this and Clarke is grateful that Jackson swings by with the trey of bandages and antiseptic before they’ve started undressing him because she’s pretty sure that would’ve taken another hour of convincing.

She pulls the curtains back around the bed and helps him sit up and let his legs hang off the edge.

Her mother’s right-there’s something wrong with his knee because she could see it’s swollen and his pants were torn up and bloody just under his kneecap. First she had to take care of his torso, though, so she reaches for his jacket zipper and starts pulling it down.

He grabs her hand midway and looks at her.

“Clarke-” he keeps his eye on her for a long moment trying to tell her everything that’s going through his head without actually speaking it out loud. And she sees it, she dives into his brown warm ocean of vulnerability and sadness and understands.

She gets now why he didn’t want Abby and Jackson to look at him-he was ashamed.

Which meant it was bad.

“It’s okay, we’ll go slowly, alright?” she suggests and after a moment he releases her hand and let’s her take his jacket off.

Her breath gets stuck in her throat when she sees the bruises and cuts on his arms before she’s even taken off the paper thin pale brown shirt but she keeps her expression as neutral as she can because she knows he’s looking at her and he doesn’t need her pity or her anger.

Just her help.

“You good?” she asks when she grabs the hem of his shirt and he manages a small nod.

This time she can’t help but clench her fists so tightly in the soft material of his shirt that she rips some of the cloth in her anger without so much as realizing it.

His body is covered from the neck to the waistband of his pants with nothing but angry dark, purple and yellow bruises but that wasn’t all of it-long cuts starting from his side and going in a semi-circle to his stomached mapped his body-three on each side, six total or so she thought before she forced herself to check his back and found four more there, deeper and swollen in a red angry puff. 

Those on his chest and somach were older it seemed as they had already gathered yellow pus, some of them were leaking probably from the strain of his body being jostled in the rover on the way home. 

“You call this fine?” she finally says when she pulls back, his shirt still fisted in her hands.

“Easy, I only got two of those and you’re already ruining this one.” he says nodding at his shirt and that just makes her even more angry. 

She huffs, drops the shirt on the floor unceremoniously and pushes the metal trey table to his side, picking up a pair of gloves and grabbing the meager supplies they’ve given her. 

“Lie back.” she instructs.

“Why?”

“Because to clean these cuts I’ll need to dig in deep and it’ll hurt too much for you to keep sitting.”

“I can-”

_“Don’t!_ ” she cuts him off angrily “Just stop fighting me and do as I say, okay?” he rolls his eye but lies back down and she picks up the clean pieces of cloth her mom’s spared, dozing them in moonshine.

_“Bossy, princess.”_ he mumbles.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“I thought so.” she presses on the first cut up under his heart and he hisses, gripping the side of the bed and forcing himself to remain still as she dug in it and took all of the grime and wooden pieces out. 

“Do you want something to bite on?” she asks but he shakes his head and she doesn’t seem impressed by his stubborness at all. “If you start moving too much I’ll have to call someone to help me, though.”

“I won’t, I promise.” she sighs and just focuses on cleaning him up as best as she can. By the time she’s almost done with his front, sweat beads his forehead and he breathes so shallowly that she’s afraid he’ll pass out, so she stops to give him a moment and grabs the cup of water from the bedisde drawer, carefully lifting his head up and helping him take a few sips.

“Let’s take a moment before I move to your back, okay?” she says and he agrees with a slow nod. Her hand reaches to swipe away the sweat from his forehead but then as if on instinct moves down to cup his cheek.

She’s almost surprised by her actions and about to pull away and apologize when he leans into her, pushes his swollen bloody cheek to her small cold fingers and he looks so young and innocent in that moment that she never wants to let go of him again.

“You scared me.” she says finally and he moves his hand up to wrap around her wrist and squeeze in quiet understanding. “You have to understand what you did was stupid. Risking your life like this...letting them beat the crap out of you...it’s extremely reckless, Bellamy.”

“Would you have rather I told them all about our plans?” he asks barely opening his eye again but not letting her hand go.

“They found them out anyway. Someone’s been spying on us. I think Roan did this just to show me he can.” she shakes her head “None of it mattered.”

“Little ever does.” he agrees. “I’m glad you’re fine, though.” she chuckles out a sad laugh at that-how could he worry about her when he was the one barely breathing lying on a cot in medbay after three days of constant torture by one of the most vicious clans in the coalition. “When I saw you in that gorge, I thought you’d do something stupid to get us back.”

“Well I did, I gave him fifty of our spots.” at that both his eyes even the swollen one open up and she sees the blood and grime there too-he could get a really nasty eye infection that’ll worsen his sight if she didn’t clean this up as soon as possible. 

She stands up and dips another rag in clean water, reaching to press it to his eye, making him hiss and throw his head back but she puts her hand on his other cheek and forces him still.

“Could be worse.” he finally lets out when he catches his breath.

“Worse how? Are you telling me you’re looking up to the prospect of sharing the same room with Azgeda warriors for the next five years?”

“I won’t be living with them, because I won’t be inside.”

“Yes, you will be.” she says stubbornly and he just smiles at her making her want to swipe that stupid idiotic self-sacrificing smirk off of his face. “You will be, Bellamy!” she adds again and he looks at her seriously now.

“I won’t close these doors with you on the other side, do you hear me?” when he doesn’t say anything she finds his hand and grips is hard **_“Do you, Bellamy?”_**

“Fine, I do.” he lets out pretending to be annoyed but under her angry look he adds “I hear you.”

“Good.” she nods sternly “Now let’s get that back of yours cleaned up too. I’ll have to stitch your cut and check your knee as well.”

It’s hard for him to sit up but she doesn’t really have a choice in the matter and for his benefit as much as it hurts him, he manages to keep it together and only tense when it really hurt him which was basically the entire time.

By the end he has sweated from the pain and the little droplets were slowly falling down right into his cuts, making it even more painful.

She manages to negotiate some of the sea wood ointment they had made following Lincoln’s instructions from Jackson as well as more bandages with which to wrap his torso but by the time he comes back, he’s trying to hold onto the side of the bed so hard that his body is shaking from the effort.

“I’ll be quick, I promise.” she says when she applies the seawead paste and starts wrapping his ribs. He is so out of it by that time that she’s not sure he even realizes what’s happening. 

When she pushes him back down and checks on his knee, she finds that the cut there is much deeper, probably from a sword and that there’s as much grime and dirt there as in his other ones, if not more. 

It takes her another hour to clean and stitch it up, wrap his leg in a bandage before moving finally to the one on his head.

At some point he had passed out, she knew because the pain had been too much and his body had gone slack-he looked peaceful, almost as if he was just sleeping but even in his unconscious state, he arched his back when she touched a nasty cut or bruise or winced and hissed. 

“Clarke-” he mumbles when he feels her there up on his face and he cracks his good eye opened.

“Hey.” she says softly “I’m almost done, okay?” he doesn’t register her words and she furrows her eyebrows at his confused expression.

Her fingers press against his forehead and she finds it burning-damn it, he already had a fever. It was normal, she told herself, trying to reason with her panic-his body’s been through a lot and some of the cuts were infected but he’d be okay in a few days.

**_Unless-_ **

**_No-she scolded herself._ **

**_He’d be fine. He had to be._ **

“My sister...is she-is she...here?” he was so delusional and out of it that it broke her heart when he asked that but she also couldn’t lie.

“Not yet.” she manages as she plasters a bandage on his cut and cleans the blood from his face away “I’m sure she’s on her way, though.” he smiles and shakes his head as if depsite his condition he still realized that she’s lying to him.

“Right...yeah...she probably is.”

A tear rolls down his eyes and she can’t stand it, can’t bear seeing him in so much pain, so she just brushes it off with her thumb and grabs his arm, carefully turning him sideways.

“Here, don’t move, you need to let the wounds heal, so no lying on your back.”

“Aye-aye, princess.” he says in pretend joke, probably trying to make her feel better which doesn’t work-all he does is sound sad and broken.

She grabs the blanket from the bottom of the cot and throws it over him which he seems to like because the fever made him shiver really bad and he felt cold. Then she circles around, sits on and takes her boots and jackets before sliding right behind him, moving her tinier, shorter body up so that she was spooning him, sneaking her arm expertly under his and pushing his back to her chest as her head nestled above his.

“What are you doing?” he asks surprised, body tensing at the sudden contact.

“Making sure you don’t roll on your back and ruin all the work I did to fix you, what else?”

“Clarke...you have other stuff to worry about.” it sounds like a fight but he’s too weak and on the verge of sleep to make anything out of it. Not that it would matter to her, she wasn’t going anywhere.

“No, I don’t.” she says finding his hand and intertwinging his fingers with hers “The only thing I need to takecare of now is right here.” he looks up like he can’t believe what he just heard-that someone was chosing him over the world, that someone would lay down and hold him just because-no reason but himself, his well-being.

She can’t help herself-her free hand swipes the curls from his forehead and she leans down to kiss his clammy skin. 

“Sleep.” she says, commands more really because he’d fight her on it otherwise for sure and he relaxes into her embrace, letting himself be weak and vulnerable, hurt and small just to her and no one else.

She watches him fall and tries to command her heart to breat slower but no matter what she fails and she can’t say that she minds because for once it feels like all her love is spilling out of her just for him, in waves, in little touches, small kisses, her nose buried in his curls breathing his scent, her worry over his every hitch or wince making it skip a beat or tense but that’s okay.

It was okay.

Because she realized that even if the world was ending, even if the radiation wave came in and swallowed them whole right this minute, there’s nowhere else she’d rather be but here-lying in bed, holding him up, feeling peace and love like never before in her life.

Bellamy stirs a little in her arms and she pulls the blanket up their bodies when she notices him shiver, then kisses the top of his head and rests her chin on his soft curls, allowing herself the sweet pull of good deep sleep that she could only ever achieve whenever he was around. 


End file.
